


Bert And Gerard's Big Gay Valentine's Date

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of pure fluff written for Valentine's Day 2013</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bert And Gerard's Big Gay Valentine's Date

            “You know I hate surprises”

            “C’mon Bert. Let me be a doting boyfriend for once.”

            The cab swung up to the curb with a lurch and Gerard, in an effort to enforce his point, hurried to get out his wallet and pay the driver. Then he was at Bert’s door, holding it open with a big dorky smile.

            Bert rolled his eyes but took the hand Gerard offered to him, stepping up onto the sidewalk and realizing where they were. He gave a glance to Gerard’s stained black jeans and Madonna shirt, and a glance to the huge glass panels in front of them. “Cork and Pine” read the backlit letters above the doors. They were in some shitty town in the Midwest, so Bert had never heard of it, hell, he didn’t know any restaurants besides Applebee’s and the occasional Olive Garden, but he could tell that this place was nice.

            Candles everywhere gave the place a warm glow, even from the outside. The front was completely glass, and the diners inside all dressed in ties or slinky dresses, young beautiful people and old rich people all set against the soft yellow light.

            Gerard stepped up to open the door. His smile was gone, replaced by a nervous shine in his eye, waiting to gauge Bert’s reaction. He couldn’t be serious. Bert in his tour-stained shorts and Vans with the toes busted out, Gerard who hadn’t showered in a week, they were going to eat with a bunch of _yuppies?_

            The hostess gave them a terse, sneering once-over as she took them to their seats, but Gerard didn’t seem to notice, bouncing along behind her to a table along the wood-paneled walls. She set down their menus and left without a word. Gerard hurried to pull Bert’s chair out for him before settling into his own.

            “A girl could get used to being treated like this.” Bert sighed in his best falsetto. Gerard just sent a small smile over the edge of his menu. “But seriously Gee, what are we doing here?”

            It wasn’t like Bert was _uncomfortable,_ truth be told he rarely found a situation he couldn’t handle, but this was unlike anything he and Gerard had done before. Their relationship was best summarized by order-in pizzas and grimy bars, never gourmet restaurants where Bert couldn’t pronounce half the menu, let alone know what anything actually was. Years of vigorous touring, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he ate somewhere with honest-to-god linen tablecloths and napkins.

            In the end he orders something that doesn’t sound too dangerous. He really wants Gerard to know that he appreciates this, and goddamn he may just be becoming a romantic. He never thought he would live to see the day. This boy, this stupid beautiful boy with his stupid beautiful moonface and stupid beautiful goth chick haircut and stupid, stupid smile was turning every principle Bert had about intimacy on his head.

            Appetizers came.

            _The first time Bert had seen Gerard he wondered why the guy was so mad. He had this ridiculous sunglasses on that were eating up half of his face and his little upturned nose stuck high in the air as he smoked against the side of a beaten-up tour van. Resorting to tactics most often used by teenage girls, Bert went to ask Quinn what he knew about the beautiful bitchy guy._

_Quinn had it on good authority from Jeph, who had been talking to a guy named Frank that the guy was just always like that, and was, in fact, a really weird dude who wasn’t aloof, just genuinely shy. Bert knew he had to do something about that._

            Dinner arrived, and it wasn’t food from mars, it was actually delicious and Gerard got started on the sexist standards supported by Valentine’s Day and Bert just smiled and listened to the steady rise and falls in Gerard’s tone as he rambled on.

            _The first time Bert had kissed Gerard it was about five minutes after seeing him. He would see how shy he really was. Bert bounded off his own bus and ambled over to where Gerard stood, one hand on his hip and another holding what was left of a rapidly dwindling cigarette. Bert wasn’t even sure if Gerard saw him before he took his face up in his hands and basically stuck his tongue down his throat. And maybe things had gotten tangled somewhere in the grapevine because, after a brief moment of surprise, Gerard flicked his cigarette away and was meeting Bert in the kiss halfway, arms around Bert’s neck and hips pressing up. Yeah, definitely not shy._

            The plates were cleared and the waitress came around again with dessert menus. Gerard just asked for a coffee and Bert took a piece of chocolate cake. They had been there a while, and the once-suffocating soundtrack of conversation and laughter began to fade away as the marketing execs and beautiful people slowly vacated their tables.

            _The first time Bert had fucked Gerard was about five minutes after kissing him. Like a game of chicken, they made out against the side of the My Chem tour van, waiting to see who would back off first. Neither of them remembered who did, but Bert remembers running up the stairs of the bus with bitchy guy’s delicate, fucking,_ lady’s hand _in his, pulling him up then back into the bunks, with a mighty shout of DON’T COME BACK WE’RE GETTING NAKED to alert anyone who was there. There was a quiet thump of someone falling out of their bunk and shuffled as they got their ass out of there. Bert fell into the nearest lower bunk (Quinn’s, who would forgive him for this, noting he would have done the same in those circumstances) and pulled Gerard down to his level by the cracked lapels of his leather jacket._

When everything was done Bert figured it was time to pay and go, head back to the hotel room they had blessedly secured. But Gerard still sat there, playing with the rim of his coffee cup, pulling on the hem of his shirt, smoothing out wrinkles in the bit of tablecloth in front of him. Bert was about to ask if there was something was wrong when Gerard let out a loud breath and pushed his chair back, the sound ringing throughout the nearly empty dining room.

            He fumbled around for a few seconds before crossing the space to Bert’s side of the table and _kneeling down right in front of Bert’s dirty sneakers, what the fuck._

“Bert, I, I know you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever, ever met and.” Gerard drew a shaky breath. Bert didn’t move, just stared down at Gerard because _what the fuck._ “And every day I spend with you feels like a lifetime and I think, I think I’m ready for a lifetime with you.”

            Gerard patted down his pockets with shaky hands and pulled out a small, thin box. He managed to crack the lid open on the second try, and there on a small bed of cotton filling was a silver ring, shiny and simple, staring up at him.

            Bert opened his mouth to say something along the lines of, “yes, god yes of course motherfucker,” but, for the first time in his life, nothing came out. Instead he did all he could do, was get out of his chair and down to where Gerard was still kneeling, eyes watery and arms shaking. Bert wrapped his arms around Gerard’s trembling figure, burying his face into the curve at the bottom of his neck and taking a long, deep breath.

            And then he could talk and he was just chanting, “yes yes yes,” and he fit his mouth to Gerard’s for a long moment. When he pulled away, Gerard had that ridiculous smile on again, unhinged and uncensored, just joy as he plucked the ring from the box with his lady hands. Bert offered out his hand and there the ring was, shining bright on his second-to-last finger, catching the flickering light of candles in its surface.

            And they sat there, on the floor of that goddamn yuppie restaurant, Bert’s head on Gerard’s chest, until the waitress lady came with the check.


End file.
